A Poor Dance
by whitecoatswontgetme
Summary: Hermione's acting the wall flower at the New Years Eve party and Severus is determined to draw her back into the life of the world, but the past finds away to haunt her, even as the future is beginning.


The band was not really to her taste and neither was the erratic fashion of her peers' dancing technique, not that she was an expert. She considered herself hopeless and she refused to flail her arms around and jerk her body in such a way to reflect whatever the noise was supposed to be. Music hardly seemed the correct word.

The room was alive with excitement and expectation. Ten more minutes and it would be the New Year, and the couples were holding each other tight as the singletons tore about trying to impress and lure someone into sharing that special moment with them. She sighed as she lifted her glass to her lips and she took a moment to inhale the crisp, fresh aroma before taking a sip. Her eyes scanned the dark rooms, as all the candles hovered above the dance floor and only the dimmest lights bordered the room, to emphasise the blazing glory of the New Year.

There were hardly any people not frolicking about now. Minerva was performing some version of a twist with Hagrid who was attempting to sashay beside her. She watched little Flitwick glowering at someone who was trying to levitate him up into the dizzying heights of the Christmas tree. Filius didn't strike her as ideal Christmas Fairy. Then again, she couldn't really blame the students for trying. Snape was still prowling around the edges but she couldn't actually spot him at the moment, and Dumbledore was merrily jigging about out of time next to the first year Gryffindors. She rolled her eyes.

The Slytherins were keeping to themselves this year. They usually hovered around the punch reaping the benefits of the Gryffindors spiking the drinks, but they were dancing slightly more elegantly and with more reserve at one end of the hall and the rest of the school filled everywhere else.

"You do not care to dance?" a soft voice next to her. It was Snape.

"Not really; I dance very poorly."

He smirked at her. "I wasn't aware it mattered. Look around you".

She conceded the point silently and Snape continued, again in his now customary soft, quiet voice, the remnants of war.

"It seems a long time ago since you all danced together, that one dance at the victory ball when nobody cared about anything at all, but you danced before then. I remember that Quidditch player that you danced with, rather well actually."

"Yeah Ron wouldn't speak to me civilly for weeks after that".

Snape gave her a rare smile. "I can imagine", he grimaced slightly and carried on, obviously against his better judgement, and "How is he?"

Hermione turned to face him properly, surprised at his interest. She bit her lip. Ron was a touchy subject, although Snape wouldn't have known it. As far as the world was concerned, he and Harry had gone on a long vacation to recover from their battle scars, emotional and physical.

"The last I heard he was sleeping with anything that moved in Hawaii, Harry not far behind, although he had the decency to marry one of them".

"I see"

There was a moment of silence. Snape hadn't a clue how to follow that statement up.

"Well what about you?"

"What about me?"

"How are _you_?"

"I don't know really. I feel numb, as though I am a spectator to my life and not in the driving seat, as though I'm not living it. Do you know what I mean?"

"Perfectly. Perhaps you should start again".

"Living? I hardly think so."

"You should get yourself back in the 'driving seat'. I'm assuming that's a muggle reference to those trolley things they sit in."

"Yeah, cars - I don't know how to".

"You could start by dancing".

Hermione stared at him dubiously.

"You want me to dance?"

"I want you to dance with me actually."

"Oh".

"It's only a couple of minutes to midnight. I thought both you and I could start the year doing something different that leaning against a dark wall in a dark corner overseeing lots of hyperactive, over-excited children, wallowing in our own insecurities."

"I don't wallow" she mustered.

"Either way we're still stood leaning against a dark wall in the dark, and can I say, damp, corner of the room."

She grinned.

"Fine. I'll dance, but I really am no good at it."

"Who cares?"

She took his offered hand and followed him on to the floor, still staying away from the crowded centre. He held her gently and Hermione very quickly found it was rather fun dancing with Snape. He twirled her and caught her and although she had no idea what was going he seemingly did, and she found herself laughing along with the music as she nearly tripped over his feet and stumbled as her eyes closed in her chuckling. When they opened Snape was there, smiling at her gently.

"I must confess you were right; you are a horrific dancer!" He smirked as he spun her again and Hermione glowered once she was facing him again. "It's not my fault!"

The countdown began behind them.

"I was attempting a joke. I find I rather like dancing with you".

"How much punch have you had? You know the kids have got at it don't you?"

"Not nearly enough" he muttered as they reached the couple of seconds mark and then the huge hall was lit with fireworks and lights and bangs and screams and laughs.

They stood there uncomfortably in the midst of the chaos. Snape cleared his throat, before cursing under his breath and leant into kiss her. She responded instinctively and soon lost herself in his kiss.

The students had resurfaced now and were wooting and cheering each other.

"Severus"

He slowly returned his gaze to her.

"Would you care to continue the dance?"

"I think I'd prefer the punch, all of it in fact."

She tried to smile, but wasn't sure if was as serious as he sounded.

He sighed and took her hand again. The band was playing some modern romantic drivel and the couples were back in each others arms. Hermione tried to keep all her attention on her feet, and trying to keep them trampling his.

"I'm sorry if that was too forward, Hermione. I won't try it again if you do not want me to".

She looked up again. Did he not think she'd liked it? He was certainly right about those insecurities.

"Maybe… maybe you should" she rushed out in one breath and he had to struggle to hear it. His eyes widened and something like relief washed through him. Hermione instantly felt better.

He brushed her loose hair aside and slowed leant in, watching her reaction, and their kiss ended with the song, and was met with surprised applause from the students. She noticed the young Weasley brothers exchanging mothers and grinned. They were certainly like their fathers.

They were both blushing madly when they retreated back to the dark shadows, awaiting the 'special surprise' of Dumbledore's. Severus was convinced it was something to do with lemon drops; Hermione didn't care. She was more than happy to stand there holding hands and leaning against the wall in quiet and comfortable harmony.

Albus stood up, his stick tapping the ground as he made his way onto the stage.

"Well, it's a great occasion, another new year, and incidentally the anniversary of peace in Great Britain. We thought this warranted some very special guests here this evening. Scratch that; this _morning_! May I welcome to our celebration our great war veterans Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley!"

The doors swung wide and Hermione practically shrank into the shadows. Severus held her tight as the two wizards entered with much clapping and shouting.

They were barely recognisable. Both had grown their hair out and were adorned with medals and badges of honour. The trappings of good living and finery were draped around them and Ron even had a cane reminiscent of Lucius Malfoy's.

"It seems a bit of money's gone to their heads'. Snape muttered. His scornful eyes never leaving them, even as he clutched the trembling witch to his chest and heard her muffled words of 'Please don't let me go'.


End file.
